Chapter 4 — There's No More Room For You

Tham Do Chu's eyes narrowed and he let go of my arm, as if he had just heard a wild joke.
“Are you serious?”
“You are very serious every time.”
"Trinh Yeu, you're almost thirty, right now you say you're not getting married, what exactly do you want?"
This question is very good. I want something. I want you to eat a full meal with me, not halfway through the meal and then hear Chu Au Vi's phone call. I want you to remember my birthday, not wait for Wechat to remind you. I want when I lie on the operating table, you can sign your name yourself, not let me sign it myself. I want your final stop to be me. But he said, those things are not important. He said I was too sensitive, too calculating, too ignorant, turning every social relationship around him into hostility. He said Chu Au Vi is my cousin, a relative, how could I think my relative is so dirty. You have never stood from my perspective to look at the problem. Because in his coordinate system, he is only responsible for being the sun. And I have a duty that revolves around you. Spinning around for so long, you forgot I also have my own trajectory.
“I want you, give me back to me.”
Tham Do Chu was stunned. This was the first time he didn't immediately object. I pulled open the taxi door, sat inside, and slammed the door. When the car window was rolled up halfway, he stood outside and said a sentence.
“If you leave, I won't come pick you up this time.”
I didn't reply. The driver turned to look at me and asked where he was going. I said, go to the bank first, then go to the store to buy used brands. * The watch is on a velvet tray in a used jewelry store. The employee took a magnifying glass and looked around, saying the watch was good, but had cracks, so he bought it back for six thousand yuan (about more than 20 million VND). The original price of that watch was forty-two thousand. I took the old gold bracelet my mother left me and melted it down to make up for the year-end bonus of two years before I could buy it. Six thousand yuan, not enough to buy a new leather strap in the same segment. Tham Do Chu has worn it for three years. The time it stayed on your wrist was longer than the time you spent with me.
"Sell."
I transferred money to the card and walked out of the store. The winter sun is white and blinding. I stood on the side of the road, making a phone call. The bell rang twice before someone picked up. On the other end of the line was a gentle male voice.
"Hello, Miss Trinh. Long time no see. Do you still have that wedding dress? We're having a charity event and want to borrow it—"
“Still keeping it.” I said, "But don't lend it. I want to return it."
“Return it? Ms. Trinh, it's a custom-made dress, you can't give a full refund, you—”
"I know. You can get as much as you want back."
"...Yes, I will file a request for you. Also, do you have the answer to the last question you asked me?"
“Yes.”
I raised my head to look at the sky, reading the name of a city.
"There's a position there, I was interested in helping you. Recently there's been a recruitment opening. Do you need me to submit your CV for you?"
"No need."
I said.
“I turned myself in.”
* When I got home, I closed the door tightly. I rented this 48 square meter apartment for four years. Tham Do Chu has been there three times. The first time was four years ago, the driver helped me move my luggage upstairs, stood at the mysterious entrance for less than ten minutes and then left, saying he had to catch his flight that evening. The second time was three years ago,
He came to Lam Thanh on business and stayed at my house for one night. I specially bought that dark gray sofa bed for him. He complained that it was uncomfortable to sleep on, and since then he has never slept again. The third time was last year. Accidentally stopping by Lam Thanh to change flights, he called me from the airport, saying he was too pressed for time to get into the city, and asked me to meet him at the airport for a while.